


Eyes On Me

by Electra_XT



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Interviews, Stuttering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 09:46:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18914470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Electra_XT/pseuds/Electra_XT
Summary: Diego's had enough of Number One trying to upstage him during team missions, but in front of the press, he's tongue-tied.





	Eyes On Me

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a kind muse on FFA who spoke of "Diego and Luther's rivalry taking an unexpected turn when Diego finds himself stuttering on an interview..."

“You didn’t have to take over,” Diego says, tugging his knife from where it’s impaled in the wall. “I had those guys under control. You could have let me handle it.”

“There were two men with guns,” Luther says. “I wasn’t about to let you face that alone.”

“I’ve got way more than two of these,” Diego says, bending down to pluck another knife out of a body in an unpleasant heap on the floor. He straightens up, wiping the knife off on his uniform pants. “And even if I didn’t, I could beat ten of these guys hand-to-hand and you know that.”

“I can’t take that risk,” Luther says. “This isn’t about your pride, Diego, it’s just leadership. It’s not personal.”

“Not personal,” Diego repeats. He looks down at the knife in his hand. “You didn’t stop Ben from going in with six of them.”

“That’s different,” Luther says. “He’s got eldritch tentacles.”

“You let Five take on the boss.”

“He can teleport away if things get dire.”

“And Allison, her power isn’t even physical combat and you let her do whatever the hell she wants,” Diego says. “Face it, Number One, it’s a little personal.”

“I don’t think about it that way,” Luther says, stepping closer to him. Diego wills himself not to back away, anxiety spiking in his chest. “You’re the only one who’s making this into a rivalry, Diego, nobody else cares that I’m One and you’re Two. It’s just you. Stop letting it get to your head.”

“Uh huh,” Diego says. “You really think it doesn’t m-matter?”

Luther’s jaw clenches, and Diego stands his ground. It’s just a slip-up. He’s fine.

“Not the way you think it does,” Luther says.

“Yeah, that’s bullshit,” Diego says. “Preach at me all you want, big boy, but you and I both know that you’d n-never give up being N— N—”

Luther’s standing there, struck still. Diego takes a deep breath, forces himself to relax his jaw.

“N-N-N-Number One,” he says.

Klaus comes skidding into the room and they both turn abruptly.

“Hey, um, interview?” Klaus says. “Right now?”

“We’re not finished here,” Luther says.

“Yeah, but there are reporters literally in the next room,” Klaus says. “And we need you guys to come help out because we’re all exhausted and I’m apparently ‘banned from talking in interviews alone after the incident with Teen Vogue.’ Which is completely unfair, for the record, not that it matters or anything.”

“Maybe I’ll just stay here,” Diego says. “Nobody’s got anything to ask Number Two a-anyway.”

“We’re coming,” Luther says, laying a hand on Diego’s shoulder. Diego twitches violently and Luther removes his hand like he’s been burned.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Klaus says, towing Luther. “We’re late—”

Diego slides his knife back into the inside pocket of his blazer and follows Klaus. He needs to get over himself. Mom’s always good at helping him relax, helping him rehearse the words he has to say, let them take root in his mouth like they belong here. Not that he’d admit it to anyone, but he wishes more than anything she were here, even sitting in the audience, so he could find her with his eyes during the interview. _You did it, Diego! I’m so proud of you._

“Are you going to be okay in front of everyone?” Luther says in his ear.

Diego’s hand is in his blazer before he knows it and he flashes a knife blade at Luther. Luther recoils and Diego feels a stab of regret— he’s still picturing Mom’s eyes, her peaceful face— and he returns the knife into its pocket, letting his hands rest at his sides.

“I’m f-f-fine,” he says.

“You don’t have to talk,” Luther says. “I’ll cover for you if you want to be quiet. Nobody will notice.”

“Screw y-you,” Diego says, looking up at Luther. Angers’s coursing through his veins and it’s making him itchy. “I don’t n-n-need your help.”

They’re at the door now. Klaus pushes it open and stands aside as Diego and Luther make their way out towards the podium with the microphones. Diego holds up a hand to acknowledge the roar of the reporters and the flashing lights and Luther copies him, raising his hand a little awkwardly as the crowd goes wild. Allison moves back so they can all settle into their places in line. Diego takes a deep breath and straightens his shoulders, and a shadow falls across the six of them as Reginald walks onstage in front of them. Allison squeezes Diego’s hand, and Diego squeezes back. They know the drill.

“I present to you the inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy,” Reginald says. “You may now have a half-hour for questions.”

And then he turns and walks off. There’s a murmur in the crowd, as if the assembled reporters expected that a man in charge of seven super-powered twelve-year-olds would have more to say to introduce them, but after a short and awkward silence a woman in a neatly tailored suit stands up.

“Well, on the behalf of everyone here at the museum, I’d like to extend my thanks for your help this afternoon,” she says. Diego nods. “I take it you all have, ah, superpowers?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Luther says.

“Are they…” The woman makes a vague gesture. “What can you— what do you do?”

Luther clears his throat, and Diego sighs. They always get this one.

“Well, to tell you the truth, it would be a liability to reveal all our secrets,” Luther says. “But rest assured that the skill set of the Academy encompasses a broad range of disciplines of defense, from prowess in physical combat to mastery of metaphysical and mystical operations, all of which we employ to the best of our ability to keep our world safe from harm.”

The first couple times Luther had to give that answer, he stumbled over the words. Eight years old, Diego had had to listen as Luther started and stopped six times. Now he’s completely unfazed, like he can open his mouth and be sure that the phrase will come out as smoothly as it always does.

It can’t be that hard. It’s just talking. Diego flexes his hand at his side, because apparently it’s unseemly to crack his knuckles on camera.

“Do you have parents?” a journalist pipes up.

“We’ve been adopted by Sir Reginald Hargreeves,” Allison says, speaking up. “We live and train with him. He treats us very well.”

“And do you go to school, or do you just train for combat?” a reporter says from the far corner of the room.

At the edge of the stage where the crowd can’t see him, Reginald mimes a hand across his throat and Diego can hear his voice ringing in his head— _keep logistical questions at an absolute minimum, children! Distract!_

“We’re homeschooled, actually,” Klaus says. “Sir Reginald teaches us everything we need to know. Yes? Another question?”

At the front of the room, a woman is standing with a group of kids. Diego looks down at them, and they look back. It feels overwhelmingly strange when he realizes that most of them are about his age.

“Today we have the special opportunity for a peer Q & A,” the woman says, clapping her hands together. “These lucky children have been selected for the opportunity to meet the Umbrella Academy in person, and ask them everything they could want to know about being a superhero!”

“Superhero’s a strong word,” Klaus says. “We’re just kids who can do a little bit extra. Except…” Diego doesn’t have to look over to pinpoint the exact point at which Klaus catches Reginald’s furious eye. “Except you’re kind of right, ha ha! Superheroes, extraordinary, yes, that’s what this absolutely is. Anyone have any questions?”

The woman in the front looks down at her charges.

“I have a question for Number Six,” a girl says. “Does it hurt when you do your superpower?”

Ben wipes his sticky hair out of his face. “Yeah. A lot.”

If Diego weren’t looking, he wouldn’t have seen Five step on Ben’s foot.

“But it’s worth it to fight the bad guys,” Ben adds quickly.

“What does Number Four do?” a boy says.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Klaus says. Diego turns his head in time to see Klaus wink. 

“I mean, yes?” the boy says.

“Sorry, I can’t tell you,” Klaus says. “Top secret. Parents, am I right?”

Sometimes Diego wonders if Klaus does this to get banned from interviews forever or if he truly just doesn’t give a single fuck. In any case, Five wraps an arm around Klaus and squeezes hard, a brotherly gesture of _please shut up for the love of God._ Diego bites his cheek to keep from smiling.

Maybe it’ll all be okay.

“I have a question for Number Two,” a girl says.

Diego freezes. The room blurs out until the only things he can locate are the girl in front of him and Luther beside him, attentive and still, radiating concern.

“Y-yeah?” Diego says.

No. No way, not now. He can see the pulse of his heartbeat in his vision, and he straightens his shoulders again, parting his lips, relaxing his throat.

“Is it weird to have a number?” the girl says. “Like, is Number One in charge? Is it annoying to always be Number Two?”

“I,” Diego says, and the moment the sound is out of his mouth, he knows it’s a lost cause. Shame burns through his whole body. He coughs to buy himself time. “I—”

For a moment, the word hangs in the air. He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do. Then on Diego’s left, Luther takes a deep breath.

“I don’t know how it feels to be Number Two,” he says. “I think only my brother could tell you what’s that like. But what I can say— and I think the rest of us will agree— is that we’re kids first and numbers second, no matter what. If we were just our numbers, just our powers, we’d be perfect crime-fighting machines, but we’re… not that. I can tell you that it’s an honor to be Number One, though. Every time we assemble for a mission, I see the rest of my siblings, and I don’t want to let them down. Sometimes that means making some hard choices. I try to do what I can to protect everyone, but I’ve learned that sometimes it’s not that simple. And there are times when I make good calls and there are times I make bad ones. And times where I think I made a good one and I actually made a bad one. And times where I still think I made a good one but it hurt someone’s feelings. And times where it’s just… it’s hard to tell.”

Luther clears his throat.

“Sometimes we’re wrong,” Luther says. “But we’re siblings, first and foremost, so the most important thing is to listen to each other. That holds even if you’re not a superhero, right? And I can tell you…”

Luther glances at Diego. His face is torn apart with guilt.

“It takes just as much to be Number Two as to be Number One,” he says. “Anyone could get a number, but it’s your actions that really matter.”

Diego lets out his breath. A susurrus of approval runs through the room as the parents in the audience take in Luther’s words and Reginald's eyes burn into their backs, but next to Diego, Luther is holding himself tense and rigid. Diego looks at him, and he takes a deep breath.

“Nothing works if you d-don’t trust each other,” he says. He lifts his chin and stares down the crowd like he’s about to that them down. “You learn to trust that the numbers don’t matter. Even if it bugs you, you gotta let it go.”

And then he nudges Luther with his elbow, just a little. Luther catches his breath and Diego looks over at him.

 _I’m sorry,_ Luther mouths.

“Thanks,” Diego says. He nods at the audience, and he nods at Luther. “Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [ Tumblr,](https://electra-xt.tumblr.com/) and you can reblog this fic's post [ here! ](https://electra-xt.tumblr.com/post/185049988266/fic-eyes-on-me)


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